A Kiss isn't Just a Kiss
by Glorioux
Summary: Harry loves Hermione forever, and Ron wants what is Harry's. HG loves HP in secret, but bonds of friendship are stronger and Ron knows it. RW and HG's wedding day is coming fast, but she finds a receipt for a ring, a love present from Ron? Will HP get his witch? Maybe, but it is his kiss-argument to save Ron's hide that changes it all. Magic Realism. HP-HG . NC Mature theme.
1. Chapter 1

HP is JKR, the story line and the new concepts are mine

Note: This story happens after DH, and non Canon after it. If you love Ron, and think he is an angel, please close the browser, one click away. After the war DH compliant EWE, Be well.

This is a modified re-published ff. Three or four chapters max. Part of a much longer Ff I decided not to publish.

‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡

Music for just a blink of this chapter: (I usually don't recommend music, but this is just so well suited, an oldie.)

Blood Hound – Let's do like they do in the Discovery Channel.

 **Chapter 1: A dark room Who, How**

Grimauld 12, Evening. present-

‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡

 **Prologue**

The room is dark. Inside, the shadows are moving; the air is full of magic and scents of arousal and sex; the sounds are unintelligible, mostly screams and moans can be heard. George closes the door, they had left it opened and he chuckles, "Lucky prat, I would take your place at the drop of a hat, if I were not married, that is."

At that, he goes back to his wife, who waits at the kitchen. He is quite ready for a round of the same he just witnessed; looking at the couple dancing to the sensual rhythm, makes him want a dance of his own.

Fred, Sirius, and Remus, our dear departed or better put, dead to this world, sit in a room not too far away. Hmm, time and space are relative, shall we say, they are in a place unseen to human eyes, a hop and a skip away from Grimauld 12; however, the place is situated in a parallel layer, separated by an abyss, a black hole, only with one-crossing at the time of death and no return bridge.

Once in a while the dead, dead to us, are allowed to enter a room with a view. The view in this case is open to Grimauld 12. How they got there, well, that is a subject for a longer story. Let's just accept they are voyeurs of a sort, or, a better description, watchers of a witch they all loved and considered a friend. While others came to watch of the wizard who meant different things to each one, their ward, their godchild, and for some, their son.

The trio plus a couple, James and Lily Potter, sit on a smaller couch, and all look at the scene. Farther on the back, stands the sullen, yet younger and happier Severus Snape, some say he always had a secret penchant of the young witch. The group watches the short act through a gap that appears as a window, or perhaps, is the virtual projection of a meeting reaching the web of time and space.

The trio, there, fully agrees with George's comment, "Maybe next time will be our turn, but if not, all it is as it should be." They well know, some will make a comeback, but not all.

Later on, they all stand up and call it a night. They leave the room with the viewing window, and go back to wherever place they had gone to, the day they had died.

Some will not come back to this room; next time, they will have been called and on their way to the next station or maybe a next life starting in a mother's womb..

‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡

The wireless is playing a Muggle song.

Discovery Channel –Blood Hound (Lyrics)

 _You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals_

 _So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel_

 _Do it again now_

 _Love, the kind you clean up_

 _With a mop and bucket_

 _Like the lost catacombs of Egypt_

 _Only God knows where we stuck it_

 _Hieroglyphics? Let me be pacific_

 _I wanna be down in your South Seas_

 _But I got this notion_

 _That the motion of your ocean means_

 _"Small Craft Advisory"_

 _So if I capsize on your thighs_

 _High tide B-5 you sunk my battleship-_

‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡

Yes, indeed, the song, although crude, is rather accurate.

 **-Inside the dark room**

"Ah, love, -please don't stop", the man's hoarse voice pleads his witch. She feels her wizard, the one she once called her boy, cover her body. Her lean toned calves snake around his waist.

She cannot have enough of him as his body moves within hers; every thrust brings her close to a secret place, one where only the two of them are allowed to enter at once; all she can hear are his grunts and moans, somehow drowned by the music coming out the wireless. His hands are all over her, and she holds on to him with all the strength that she has. She wants maximum contact.

Neither of the couple can believe they are here, together, after 12 years of knowing each other. Before that night, they had never even shared a passionate kiss. And now, they are making wild, shattering love. He has hardly seen her body after the first kiss, there was no time, and at this present time, both are blind inside the dark room.

As for now, they are in a frenzy of loving, just feeling, and just immersed in a symbiotic embrace. His hard cock is diving inside her underwater-warm- moist cave, coming in and out, and as her inner-walls contract, they massage it and nearly break his prick. He is in nirvana.

She is stretched to the limit, the friction and motions make her go out of her mind. She wants him deeper, faster, and harder, pleasure and pain. Their muscles are contracted; the man's back is a study in muscle flexing, glistening with sweat. Hands and mouths are everywhere, touching, biting, licking, neither can have enough. Symbiosis, one of them needs the other, the other feeds on the one, back and forth, each give the other just what they need to live, to go forward.

Yes,' this' started with the kiss of a lifetime, right in front of George and his wife, who left the sitting room for the kitchen once they figured out that "this" would not stop anytime soon. And here is George, going back after things have gone way past the kiss that will forever stay engraved on his mind. He just came to close the door, the noise was driving him mad, and that's all.

George's mind is also addled with sex and desire, with the need to experience a fraction of what he just witnessed, sex magic at its peak. He read somewhere that in times gone by, privileged few were able to be present during the first minutes of the first coupling, of a powerful mage and his enchantress; whereby their mere proximity, they would partake of the magic in the air. Maybe it was all true, if one could judge by the state of his body.

How can relationships take such a 180°turn around during the space of less than a few hours, from never sharing a lovers' kiss to doing the Let's do like they do it in the Discovery Channel's monkey dance; or was it just engaging in the hottest sex anyone has seen in a while?

The only way to find out is for us to play to be CSI, and we need to conduct a forensic study of this situation. Let's analyze the facts leading to today.

We might have to push the stop ( □ ), and press the R (Rewind or Back)(◁◁◁)arrow to go back a little bit on time, to the start of this night, or maybe even before, to earlier times?

Oops, must push Back (◁ )a bit further back on time. It seems that the witch's anger must have started a while ago.

Let's try. First push Back(◁)then the Play (▶)Yup, that must be it! Let's see.

A **witch's anger**

 **A memory**

 **Or, Harry, oh Ron, and a Ruby-Red ring.**

 **Self denial or paving the road to hell**

Snape probably bequeathed the self-sacrificing streak to Harry, thus, he strived to follow his example.

Especially, after he found out how Severus gave his live in the service of others and mostly for him. Yes, he was his role model, give up your dreams, your hopes and even your witch.

He was in love with Hermione since the first time he saw during that fated first train ride. He had never seen such a cute thing, so fierce and cuddly at the same time. Right then, he dreamed with dark-haired-curly hair babies; and, from there on, all his wet dreams, with a few exceptions, always had featured one actress, one that transformed as they both grew up.

He had tried the Ginny thing, and failed. During their second shag, he had screamed at the top of his lungs, loud enough to raise the dead from the grave, "HERMIONE, YES, YES," as he was coming. The entire Burrows had heard, because Miss sly-as-a-weasel-Ginevra Weasley, tired of waiting for Harry's commitment, and wanting to compromise him, "forgot" the silencing charm.

Always jealous of Hermione, wanted the entire family, and, foremost, Hermione, to be a witness of Harry's love for she, Ginny Weasley; however, oops, she also forgot Hermione was O.U.T. that night.

A sonorous smack, followed by, "OUT, OUT OF MY ROOM, YOU. YES. YOU. RIGHT. NOW. SORRY. EXCUSE. FOR. A. WIZARD," a few minutes later.

Followed by the wild laughs of her brothers, and Molly's groans, "That young witch is going to be the dead of all us, rubbish that is what she is."

And Harry was OUT of Ginny's life. Her parents gave her zero sympathy, they just wanted her to settle and see the light. They knew all their children had been damaged by the war. To top it all, Ginny had befriended Tom Riddle, and a part of her soul was lost to the dark. The Weasley had suffered their share of war casualties, and a part of Ginny's soul was one of their loses.

"Harry you need to give me a chance with Hermione. She is the love of my life, please be a good friend and leave her alone." Ron would always tell Harry, he always seemed to know when his plead was a must.

Ron well knew that Harry loved her from afar. He was not blind or dumb; he was just, just, the plain old-fashioned selfish garden variety. In his mind, Harry had too many breaks, he was the hero; heir to two fortunes; admired and sought by many; and if so what should he also have the golden girl?

Never mind that Harry had given part of his fortune to each and everyone of the Weasley; including a lion's share to Ron which he kept well hidden. As for the limelight, Harry had shared it every time. No that was not enough for Ronal B. Weasley, not way, he wanted MORE.

So it was that twelve years after, twenty-three year old Ron had failed to learn; just as many others who have a sure thing. Indeed, Ron had grown accustomed to be unaccountable and just kept on hurting Hermione.

It went from the teenager taunts; to going from witch to the next; to walking away from the trio in their time of need; to the passionate kiss after the battle; which, by the way, was supposed to be his one great accomplishment.

Sure enough, the KISS was to be followed by shagging three witches during the post-battle celebration, "It meant nothing. It was only to let out some steam." Were his own words when Harry admonished him. Hmm.

The offenses continued in successive progression to later infidelities, at the rate of one per month; until the last one, just six weeks before their wedding, Ron's most stellar performance.

 **Receipts, surprises, and bad assumptions**

Hermione found a receipt for 5,000 galleons in the pockets of Rob's robes while she emptied the pockets to bring it to be cleaned. She read the invoice,' one (ring), description: large ruby, xx carats, -cut, purest quality known … made out of platinum, mounted on top of art-deco lion's head, certified…'.

He had often called her his lioness, so romantic! She wept tears of happiness. _My Ron, my love, my true valiant lion. I knew he loved me and just needed to grow up, that was all_. Those were her first thoughts.

Her heart was crazy with joy, hence she called Harry to go out for lunch. She told him to please meet her after the lunch date with Ron. Harry's heart was sad these days, and hurt him to hear her voice, she was beside herself with happiness, "Harry, I am sure that he is presenting me a special ring. I need to tell you all about it. You are my brother, and I want to share my great happiness."

Yes her happiness was a nail in his coffin. He dried an angry tear after their talk; yup, Harry the martyr endured the pain in silence, it was his loyal way.

 **THE LUNCH DATE**

She found the table earlier reserved, ordered a glass of water, and sat to wait for Ron's arrival.

The new bistro was full with the lunch-hour's young-professional crowd; she looked at the menu to help pass the time.

She stood up to go to the loo while she waited for Ron. That is when she heard the unbidden, loud conversation.

"He is such a sweet Wizard; he gave me this ring as a going-away gift. He is marrying you know-who-the-curly-swot, no matter, I am also married. Look, this is a promise ring. Ah, we will be looking for a cottage by the sea for our future rendezvous."

Hermione knew the voice and she did not want to look. However you all know the old adage 'curiosity killed the cat,' and Hermione, an overgrown kitten, had to look.

And yes, there in front of her was Lavender Finnegan, who everybody knew to have a secret lover. That love had destroyed her husband Seamus; who now was a shadow of a wizard, hitting the old firewhisky all the time.

When she had asked Ron if he knew who Lav's love was, "Don't know, I haven't seen Seamus for a while, why should you ask? I have no idea," that was his answer, verbatim. No idea indeed, perhaps he had split personalities.

 **The straw that broke the camel's back- Disaster-**

Lav-lav was there talking to no other than Ginny Nott, correction Lady Nott. She'd married to the older Nott, 62 years old. Of course in comparable human years, it made him around 42 years old. He was rich, extremely hot looking, but reputed to be cruel and not really reformed.

Lavender had stretched her hand, and right on her ring finger shone a beautiful sparkling ruby, mounted in what appeared to be the head of a lion. The red lights shinning and beckoning the green jealousy monster, that grew and expanded inside the curly hair witch. The anger was fully justified, may I respectfully add?

Hermione said nothing, passed the group, and went to sit by the window table to wait for the scum bag.

She did not have to wait long. A few minutes later, Ron entered accompanied by Harry, both wizards were laughing, probably at some joke. Harry was the first to see Hermione, her hair standing around her face like a halo, an angry nimbus, shooting coloured sparks.

Ron, who turned to all shades from pale to green, while he stared at loud Lavender's showing of the ring to everyone who cared.

He saw disaster coming towards him as a fire-ball, as an Unforgivable glowing green; and he was frozen, unable to escape. Yeah, you can run but you cannot hide. 'Run, run away, Ginger Hair Man, run as fast as you can...' he should have.

The initial realization was followed by the exchange look between the guilty as charged couple; there was a clear intent on the ways they eyed one another, Lavender with lust, and Ron as if were looking at a giant spider ready to eat him.

Harry smirked, at least Ron had one thing right, he better be afraid. Lavender's face looked like a black widow's ready to kill him. But this wasn't a bad fate judging by his Hermione's appearance, she was scary; and for once, he didn't envy Ron for a millisecond; let him have all the attention, he had it coming to him.

 _OH, Yes, burn wizard burn_ , were Harry's gleeful thoughts, and his eyes glowed red for a second.

Ron was pulling a blue velvet box out of his pocket; he gave a drowning man's smile to Harry; who whispered, "Ron I remembered a meeting, why don't I see you back at the office."

Ron grabbed by him hard by the arm, "At least stand here, I might need your help." Ron pleaded to his best friend, to his brother- in-arms, he was scared for the first time since a long time. It was about time.

For the first time on his life, Harry felt true anger towards Ron. He didn't want to clean one more of Ron's messes, hurting Hermione once more, and Harry acting as his partner, his accomplice; bloody hell, assuming responsibility for a crime that wasn't his. It wasn't fair, all his life giving up for others, the things and people he loved. At the end, Saint Potter lion's heart persevered, and he stayed.

 **Storm approaches**

To date, he can still recall the scene as if were happening right then.

Hermione's forced smile, her eyes blazing with fury, she is wounded lioness ready to strike, "Come here sweet kitty, come closer, let your guard down, and let me eat you alive." That is written all over her face and her body posture.

Never mind, the actual strong winds are now blowing inside the bistro, accompanied by short bolts of lighting. Hurricane Hermione has arrived, and its gale winds are gathering strength by the second.

 **The Storm**

He watched it all; and now and then, even after a while time, it has retained the quality of a slow-motion Muggle movie. Or like Muggle movies very slow, showing a flower bloom. Just as it happened.

-Ron kisses her cheek, then turns around to sit down.

-Loud hair cracks and sparks.

\- Her face starts glowing.

\- She spits on her hand.

\- Her spit falls in slow droplets.

\- Swipes her cheek with the wet hand.

\- She rubs her cheek hard with plain disgust.

\- Her eyes are changing colours.

Maybe, just maybe, there is still time to run. –

Oh, oh! Harry realizes, after a look once around, that he is not the only one who watched the drama unfold; correction, many customers have slowly emptied the establishment, everyone knows of Hermione's bad temper and her magical prowess.

Lavender, the coward, tries to clear the establishment while Ginny goes back to her older husband to watch. Unfortunately Lavender is knocked by the crowd leaving and has to weather the storm.

Ginny wants to witness Hermione's humiliation, and soon she will wish that she had been wise, and had left while the going was good.

Her life is about to change, some argued for the better. Knott had not been one of Voldemort's right hands for not being astute. He loves the girl and wants to give her all, but isn't going to let her ruin their lives. And what he sees this day will change him forever.

The slow-motion reel continues, - Ron opens the box, inside there is a ring, magnificent, belonging to Hermione's mother, one stored inside her jewelry box for a long time.

Harry recognizes it. "Harry this was mum's, I will never it wear it because it causes me too much pain. My parents are dead and with all the tragedy and pain, it kills me a little to see it. I will put it on one day whenever the burn is not so intense."

She had told this to Harry more than once.

Harry knows this can only turn BAD.

a/n Hmm what on earth is wrong with Ron, wait with Harry as well. Grump.


	2. Chapter 2 Winds of Retribution

Note: The ring story is borrowed from a real live event, no magic, but the anger was there. Life is stranger than fiction.

‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡

 **Winds of Retribution**

 **The Ring**

 **Harry knows this can only turn BAD**.

He knows it, and his fears are supported when he sees Hermione furiously rubbing her cheek, the one Ron kissed. She is desperate to erase the last traces of the love she felt for Ron.

Harry knows about the ring; indeed, she has told him about her mother's ring more than once. Hermione holds the ring as the memory of her parent's happy marriage, what a cluster F...Hence, yes, he knows that nothing good is about to happen.

Harry covers his eyes, this is too horrible to watch, but temptation of watching a disaster, the schadenfreude inside of all of us, prevails. He opens the fingers, one by one, to watch between them, to witness the winds of anger and destruction.

"Luv, I was thinking, ehem, what is the sense to spend good money when we have this ring, a reminder of your mum. I have been watching it sad and lonely inside the box, wanting for a loving hand to wear it." Ron, the fool, states his plea with a self-assured smile. He has always been able to get her to see his way; to do his bidding; he can play her like a harp.

Reality transforms into dream quality; it turns into a nightmare's landscape.

Yes, and he is in the middle of a disaster, that could be labelled as natural and caused by a wild force of nature. Now the hurricane's tail winds turn into a tornado. Because, a tornado of flying objects is being hurled across the restaurant, all with one target in mind, Ron.

He realizes Hermione is the eye of the storm, and everyone else is right at the edge, in the area of maximum winds, on the path of destruction.

Blistering and skin boils hexes permeate the air, and Harry smartly ducks behind a counter, where all the equally smart customers and workers are seeking refuge. Ron is cornered and cannot hide very well. Neither can the knocked out Ron's mistress; the one whose stretched hand sports the ruby ring, that sparkles right onto Hermione's eyes.

It is total chaos, Ron's pleas of mercy make some laugh, and some to wish he would shut up; his voice only makes it worse.

After the tornado subsides, Hermione is no where to be found. So Harry briefly talks to the restaurant owners, and gives them his business parchment. After that, it all becomes a confused mess inside his memory bank.

He can see fragments of the other events, taking Ron's injured body to St Mungo's, the media, the news, the anger of many, and Hermione locking herself up without food for over six days.

Those are nightmare days, he is more worried for Hermione that for the injured rat at St. Mungo's, and he isn't only one who feels like that. Even Ginny's husband, who has taken a new page to follow, forbids his spouse from further contact with her brother, and friends like Lavender. Yes, he has learned a lesson, keep his young wife on a short leash.

He has witnessed the angry display, and doesn't want to risk harming his most prized possession, his Ginny. She might be foolish enough to anger Miss Granger, but he is not.

Yes, as a consequence of that day, Nott has changed with Ginny. He now monitors her comings and goings, and she no longer has carte blanche to see whom she pleases, and no more 'nights out' with her younger friends. Ginny's wings are clipped, and now she has to stay in her golden cage. He tells all his friends of how ill he felt when he realized what Ron had done. He has even told Harry in confidence, " I am revolted and shudder, physically, whenever I recall Ron's callousness, and his fiendish behavior."

It is all true; after all, Harry has seen other hard core evil-doers nod and fully agree whenever Nott relates his tale. Sadly, Ron has earned a prominent place in the infamous Hall of Bottom-Feeders.

One has to consider how rotten Ron's deeds have been, to be thought as repugnant by a former Death-Eater, bloody tarnation.

Harry is Ron's only visitor until he is released, well, him and the 'other woman,' a casualty of hurricane Hermione. She is also a patient.

Molly came once, and only to make Ron worry about Hermione's health. Molly is very upset with her son; and, although, she continues to send Ron clean clothes and motherly treats, she never comes back to visit.

Harry comes to pick up Ron, he is being released; and sees Lavender running into Seamus' embrace. Seamus who is now sober, gives Ron an evil look. He stands straight, and he is no longer willing to be a victim, time will tell. Ron pales and looks the other way. A guilty conscience thinks Harry, no Ron will never learn.

As far as most of the Weasley wizards go, they are all in agreement; and if not for Arthur's voice of reasoning, Ron would be maimed or dead.

Everyone is growing sick with concern over Hermione. Molly finally lures her out her room by baking her favourite chocolate tart, enhancing it with a charm to magnify the smell. When she opens the door, healers are waiting to put her under a spell, and to nurse her back into health.

During the first hours she is out the room, she only tolerates Molly and Arthur around her, no one else. "I miss my parents, and I feel so very alone. Why, why, did he do it? I am a fool for trusting him." She feels lost, the weight of betrayal seems overwhelming.

"Darling you are not alone, we love you, all of us do. He is just a fool. Forget about him, he isn't worth it." Both Weasley tell her variations of the same, all they want is for her to feel better, and they worry.

For days, Molly has to hold her close to her chest, while Arthur brushes her hair. And when Hermione allows it, Arthur closes his arms around her. Needless to say, both parents still want a long break from their wayward son.

Days later, female friends and Neville, come to visit, and slowly the rest of the Weasley men and spouses are allowed to see her. Each one pledges their loyal support. It takes four of five more days until she is, finally, back on her feet.

She is still to see Harry, since she considers him a fighter from the enemy lines.

After much begging and crawling, on his hands and knees, Hermione has accepted to restart their by-weekly Friday night dinners, albeit with conditions. All arrangements are coordinated via Owl. She no longer trusts Harry, R's self-appointed solicitor, Defender of the scum bag, her words.

This coming Friday, the day of the arranged dinner, will mark the 30th day since that fateful lunch date; and 15 days before the planned wedding date, which Ron is still refusing to call off. He has not told anyone the wedding won't happen, although everyone knows. He is only fooling himself.

Just days before Harry is to see Hermione, they meet, and Harry shakes his head at Rob's false words.

"Harry, I promise, I will never do anything to hurt her again. Lavender gave me back the ring, and I want it to give it to Mione. It was a mistake; I don't know how to tell Lavy no, she makes me feel like a man." He begs, while crying crocodile tears.

So he is back with Lavander, it figures. Good thing that Seamus is back on his feet, regardless.

"Harry, Mione is no ball of fire, and, frankly, I am a little afraid of her but I love her. Please tell Hermione that I will do anything for her; tell her I will take the ring back if she doesn't want it. Harry, please see, Lav-Lav, she is just so much prettier, and I am only a wizard. Would you please understand?"

Harry wants to squeeze his neck slowly and painfully. And no, he .UNDERSTAND.

"I deserve to be her husband. You know it, be truthful, Hermione was meant to be mine. Everyone wants to take what is mine, and I want her. I know that you are one of those. Yes, I know you still fancy her, but you can have anyone else you want."

Harry's ears are ringing after hearing Ron's selfishness. He is pulling his wand, when Molly who has heard the talk comes into the room. She cannot longer stand being a silent bystander. If Ron hadn't come out of her, she would do a Bellatrix on him, right now and then, no regrets.

"Bill was right, when you were but an infant he hit you with a Quaffle, during a game of Quidditch, and he must have messed up your brain. That is the only decent explanation, any of us can find to justify such shoddy behavior. Mondongus was a prince compared to you, stealing from her vault to buy your mistress a cottage, how could you?"

She dries her tears; they are excusable since she is rather hormonal and emotional these days.

"What self-respectable witch is going to accept the ring you bought for your married mistress, how could that even cross your mind? Plus it was her money, her vault. Son, what is wrong with you? It is just despicable and absurd. Give it a rest and let her find someone nice. If Harry has fancied her, how could you call yourself his friend? You and Ginny, are my biggest disappointments, I spoiled you too much. It is my entire fault."

By now, Molly is sobbing, Harry stands by her side and holds her hand tenderly. Molly's pain is making him furious; and he is one step away from doing something regrettable. It is everyone's fault for catering to the younger Weasley's shortfalls. Everyone is guilty to some extent, to include him, and this is the only truth.

"Thank goodness, at least the two of you are financially well. For Ginny, we can only hope. It is a good thing that her Death Eater husband has taken control of their lives. As for you, I hope that one day, you will find the right path. You need to live a good life and quit blaming others for your wrong-doings, you are the only one at fault. And by the way, I am also happy to announce I am pregnant again. I will do a better job this time, if it were my fault."

She stops crying and gifts Ron with a smirk to rival any of Lucius Malfoy's.

Harry laughs hysterically at Ron's bug-eyed look, and at his open mouth. Molly pregnant, that is just too beautiful. Ron's skin is still spotted from all the hexes sent on his wake, during the damaging tornado at the restaurant; and the furious blush makes them stand out even more; poor Ronny, no longer Molly's 'uittle' baby boy.

Talking about the restaurant, the repair costs are substantial, and they were threatening to go to court, so Harry has paid to protect Hermione. She doesn't have that kind of money, and moreover, Ron has delivered his own comeuppances without Harry lifting a finger. Swift justice and then some, delivered by Ron's own hand, shall I say more?

On Friday, Harry anxiously waits for the night. He is more than concerned, he should be. He has promised, as an idiot, to intervene for Ron one more time. Why oh why, he is his worse enemy. This is a chance to get ahead, to get his witch; and instead he is at the gallows, waiting for the noose to slip around his neck.

A/n. For those who think Ron's behavior is fiction, I know there are many who do, that and worse. At least Hermione punished him.


	3. CSI - The Missing Years More facts

JKR- you know the drill

The Missing Facts

 **CSI. Crime Scene Investigation.**

You remember this is a CSi investigation of the dark room at the beginning of this story? That we are trying to figure out, how did the couple we observed went from zero to 100 mph? What were the events leading to the Dark Room's wild session.

Our question, how can relationships take such a turn around during the space of less than a few hours; from never sharing a lovers' kiss before this night, after knowing each other longer than one decade; from never expressing even one lovers' caress to doing the Discovery Channel's monkey dance; or maybe just, to engaging in the hottest sex anyone has seen in a long time?

We had decided the only way to find out is for us, to play CSI and conduct a forensic love dissection. Okay, let's see.

Yes, dear Watson, there was the ring ◎ incident, but something is not quite right; something is missing. We must be missing some facts.

The angry display and what came after, wait one must push or back a bit further in time, before the ring incident. Yes, the witch's anger must have started a while before

Let's try. First push Ⓡ, wait there isn't a back button in this time system. Ah, there is a left arrow. Again:

\- First back

\- Then play

\- Yup, that must it.

 **Hogwarts 1991-1998.**

 **Covetous Ron**

Harry Potter our story's hero will grow up to be a self-appointed-candidate to love martyrdom, willing to sacrifice his witch to his best mate, Ron. So we are at the beginning..'

 **First train ride.**

 **Fall-1991.**

Once upon a time, there was the Golden Trio, Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

Harry was a young man whose life had been mean and cruel, and at the age of eleven it improved slightly. Well, with a caveat, now he had a madman, a monster who wanted him dead; an old wizard whose time had passed, willing to form a children's army a—the students entrusted to him, to send half of them to a sure death, and chose Harry for his hero. And to hone our hero, the old wizard had willed to make Harry suffer since infancy. Yup, Harry was so very lucky

Harry was over excited, out of the Dursleys, magic and whatnot, life was a promised adventure. He had met the Weasley, and his first very good friend, Ronald B Weasley, Ron for short.

During the train ride, a petite fairy walked into their compartment.

Harry's heart started beating twice as fast. His mouth dried, and his stomach clenched uncomfortably, all emotions the young wizard didn't recognize; after all, he was a little young at the time.

The sprite had a name, Hermione Granger. And right at that second, Harry knew he had met his destiny, his Hermione, but there was time, and he was still young.

Ron, a jealous, covetous creature by nature, noticed his new friend's slightly flushed face, and his eyes looking at the ugly girl with the hair mess. What was so special about her? The answer was simple, Harry liked her, and so did he. Envy, the covetous temptress, joined our small group, and took a permanent seat inside Ron's brain.

Ron's future actions will be a result of his resident temptress' advice, 'Harry my friend, I love you, but...what is yours, I covet. What is yours, I claim…whether I want it or not. Same applies to all others. It is my right.'

So the story begins, and our trio had already taken a decisive step towards hurricane Hermione.

—We are on the right track now have the main players of our CSI, namely, tormented hero or Harry; selfish and envious friend or Ron; and heroine, Harry's true love, and Ron's prize or Hermione. As well as some main emotions influencing their future: need for affection, love, friendship, envy, and selfishness.

 **The base is established; let's continue**.—

The years went by, and Ron kept an eye on Harry; yes, he did. Harry fell in and out of love, but his eye stayed fixed on the same witch, Hermione.

Ron was smart, lazy but clever, that he was. He had heard Harry's cries for Hermione during his sleep; he had seen his eyes following her; he had noticed his aroused face whenever he checked her out from head to toe, and that was, well…every time. It was true, Ron knew and didn't care, it simply made her want her even more..

Ron did the same, looked when Harry did, unless Lav or some other witch was around; and in his delusion put a firm claim on the wild hair, know-it-all. For Godric's sake, Hermione was his, whenever he was ready for her. Molly had told him so; or he thought that she had, whatever; we all hear what we wish.

 **Yuletide Ball, afterwards, 2004, at the Common's Room.**

"Harry, why are you so lucky? You have it all, witches, money, and fame. Me, the last of six brothers, always the underdog, wearing hand-me-downs, taking the last of what is left, blah, blah, blah." Ron was in one of his usual moods.

A litany of all the things he had been denied during his short life; of being the recipient of everything someone else had discarded, of poor little Ron. Who cared if Harry had a horror childhood and was a pawn in a deadly, evil game. Why should Rob care?

Harry could only hear bits and pieces. He wanted to think about Hermione. He couldn't even tell his best friend about his love, his true love, for the one witch that couldn't be his. Harry the good, misguided best friend, knew that Ron had been catching the dregs of what was left over at home, but so were all of the other Weasley. There just wasn't enough for all of them.

He had already made a decision, whenever he was given full access to his vaults, he would make Arthur and Molly never have to worry again. Maybe, then maybe, Ron would have enough, maybe. Sadly, Ron was one of those people who would never have enough.

While money did not matter that much, Harry didn't like giving up his love for Hermione. He had loved the wild-hair witch since the first time, that day she had touched his face to fix his glasses. Her hand was very soft, and made him want to hold it over his cheek, for all eternity.

He still remembers, to date, how he had thought, she was some kind of fairy because all the magic he could see around her, and mostly because of the hair he loved so much; she so tiny and the hair made her look, well, magical.

He had never stopped loving her; she was his first and last love. And when her body started developing, he followed each bump and curve with the eye of a future buyer, he knew her by heart. He knew each dip, each tuck, each valley, each rise; and his lover's eye liked it all; he loved all the new development. He was ready to take possession as soon as the beloved witch became available.

Sure enough, snogging Chao was shagalicious, yes rather yummy. They had been practicing the art of love making. A teenager is a teenager, very simple. SEX fills up any empty and even full brain cells. Hormones are forming rapidly, threatening to destroy any intelligent thought. It takes a plain hero to fight their taking control of your control and command centre, your brain. And he was already a hero, he wanted to be a teenager and have a bit of fun.

Unconsciously, he was always trying to conjure the witch on his mind, for self-gratification purposes; and she would always morph from straight, raven-colour-Asian hair, to a chocolate- and- golden-brown-haired vixen, Hermione Granger. It didn't help that he had walked in her room and caught her in all states-of-undress. And each state was added to his collection, each tattooed on his brain matter.

Just an hour before, he had worn the invisibility cloak and had followed Viktor, the Bulgarian Hero, and the petite witch. He shouldn't have done it. Seeing the fool in question giving his witch her first kiss, had made his insides boil and soured his stomach. He didn't stay long enough, to see the witch in question push Viktor away and run back inside, while she cleaned her lips with the back of her hand, and murmured, "Harry." He also missed an angry jealous tear ran down her cheek, thinking of Harry and all his witches.

"Harry, I am going to confess you one thing. You cannot tell anyone." Ron lowered his voice conspiratorially. Harry was brought down from his memories from tonight. He knew what Ron was going to tell him, and he didn't want to hear it.

"If you want to keep it a secret, is okay with me. Maybe you should..." Harry tried to stop this heart to heart; he was one second away from running to his bed. He didn't want to know of any of Ron's designs on his beloved witch.

"I dream of shagging Hermione. She looked so hot tonight, and now, I know, she is the one I want. I need you to promise me, you must vow, that you will never come between Hermione and me. Promise, swear, she is my dream witch." His covetous eyes looked at Harry; he wanted to extract the painful promise.

Harry knew this was coming; however, he didn't like the shagging part. Hermione was their friend, and Ron was too crass. And the thought of Ron having sex with Hermione had made him very upset. Sure, why not, take away her from him, the one he had wished forever since. Ron was looking at him with a shark's eye, he had heard many wizards lusting after Hermione, and a few saying her heart belonged to Weasley, ha, ha, ha. He loved to see Harry squirm.

"Ron you should not be talking like this about Hermione. Yes, she looked nice, and, no, I'm not going to make such stupid promises to make you feel good. If you really like her, start treating her better. And she isn't mine to let you have her. And, if she were mine, it would be rude from you to ask me. So, don't ask either way, you might not want to hear what I might have to say. Let's say, this could be the end of our friendship; sometimes you ask for too much..." Harry gave him a disgusted glare, with his now glowing red eyes.

"Mate you are so funny, for a minute I thought you were being serious, you are funny." Ron just didn't get it, or maybe he did, because his heart was beating disorderly; he had just seen a dark side of Harry. Neville and Seamus had heard them, and so did the twins; and they did a thumbs up for Harry and thumbs down for Ron.

 **Horcruxes-1997**.

Ron had just left. Hermione was in tears. She had been seeing Fred in secret. They have been very amorous until Ron had found them snogging and all hell broke loose. Ron called Fred a traitor, reminded him about Angelina, and called Hermione a nasty slag. They weren't even dating, and he had treated her like pure dirt.

Said and done, Fred came the next day and told her that Ron made him a promise to stay away from and couldn't see her anymore.

Hermione couldn't even believe it. She had given Ron a chance, and he had betrayed her with Lavender and other bimbos, time after time. He was rude and a slob, and she would always wait for him to change, and he never would; he wasn't her first choice.

If Harry would have given her the time of day, Harry would have been her number one choice. But he only had eyes for Ginny. Ginny, whose territory had been well travelled by several wizards. And how could she compete with Cho and all the other beauties after him; it was hopeless.

"Hermione, Cho is one hot bird perfect for somebody famous like Harry, but she isn't good enough. Ginny is the one. Harry is crazy for Ginny, and one day he will marry her." Ron told her over and over.

When they danced over the Christmas day, she thought Harry was going to kiss her, and when he didn't, her heart broke into smethereens; and she realized that he would never care for her.

That same night, Harry dreamed that Hermione had come to his bed, pulled his boxers down slowly; she had climbed on him; lowered her body; and his cock had impaled her. His body went up on flames, his hips went into wild motion. He screamed in pleasure, her breasts so tempting; he bent to reach one, "My love…" He woke up tangled in his own sheets, screaming as he became awake, "Fuck, Hermione, more," with his hand around his arousal, going at it furiously.

It was a good thing that she had fallen sleep late, after crying for hours, and was dead to the world.

The day-light was coming in the tent, and what he saw, stayed engraved inside his optic nerve for years, her night shirt had risen, and the bed-deck had fallen, she was shivering with cold. He went to pick up the deck and saw her right breast, exposed to the cold, the nipple hard and pebbled; and he followed the trajectory of her hand. Bloody hell, it was way down on her lower stomach, inside her pink knickers, and he could see the trimmed curly mound.

He stayed there for a long time, lost track, his fingers stretched and touched the exposed nipple, and his hand burned, his cock already hard, pulsated angrily, he wanted to touch her mound.

His treacherous finger lowered, and careful not to touch her hand, just caressed the little bit of exposed hair, away from her hand, with his knuckle.

Hermione had woken in the middle of his touching her nipple, she realized that once again, she had kicked her cover, and Harry had been covering her up. Her hand was still where she had left it when she had gone to sleep, with Harry's name on her lips as she climaxed.

She feigned sleep, hoping against hope he would wake her up; moved her hand as if in part of dream acting, and her back, arched. She became very wet.

He did stay standing, she couldn't see when he touched himself, and he knew it would not take but a touch. When Hermione let her hand fall out her knickers, she had known well, that she would uncover more.

Had he moaned? She would never be sure. He could see the start of the nether lips. He bit his lips not to scream. He wanted to touch just a little lower, it was so wrong, but he let his finger slide. His body shuddered when he felt moisture, he bit his cheek to squelch a cry, and his cock jumped. He was about to come. His free hand wrapped around his cock, moved faster.

A moan escaped, the feel of her moist mound was too much, it took but a few seconds, and he ran to the loo, to come on his hand, while he cried frustrated tears. He washed his hand, and wished he could tell her how he felt. Soon, he promised himself.

Hermione, just turned around, didn't cover herself, and hoped for a cold and then pneumonia. Better to die, he didn't love her or even liked her, and, yes, she wanted to die. He ran instead of touching her more, she disgusted him. She fell asleep before he was out. He picked up the deck, covered her, and kissed the top of her head. Fis face wet with tears, "I love you," he barely whispered.

Okay, so it wasn't the first time they had touched, but neither knew the other knew. Now, we know a little more.

 **1998-**

Before the battle Ron had given Hermione a heartfelt kiss, and it was just enough to convince her for a while. For a day to be exact; the next day he was being groped by groupies, and looked very happy.

Then came the Weasley men's years; first George, they tried for a while, but he was just too sad, and he knew she had been with Fred, "Hermione, I really like you, who knows I might even love you; but you were Fred's other girl, and I feel as if I am betraying him. "She understood, and gently kissed him and let him go. Never mind, Angeline was not a problem, go figure.

The next was Bill. He had decided he had made a mistake marrying Fleur. She was never happy, always wanting more; and voila, he saw Hermione. They had a torrential love affair, but Fleur got pregnant, "My love it wasn't my fault. Cannot even figure why, believe me."

Not fault of his own, sure. "Please I beg you, wait for me. Just for a few years, just to let my baby grow up. Wait for me and we can still see each other whenever it is possible. Please love, let me kiss you, please, forgive me, it wasn't my fault..." She stopped and gaining her self-respect, she just said, "GO!"

And, yes, there was Percy, mourning after all the betrayals, and over his dead brother. Hermione found the intellectual lover, hard working and hard loving. Who would believe that he betrayed her as well, it happened during a Ministry function, when she found him shagging some unknown witch; his excuse, " Sorry, sorry, she reminded me of my first love. Sorry, my love, sorry. " His excuses fell on deaf ears.

And she decided to close the Weasley door firmly, when Charlie came knocking she offered him a cup of tea, homemade chocolate biscuits and send him on his way.

CSI: yes, I think we found out the missing facts. We already know all we need Lets go forward to Friday night, a little before the dark room _._ To the dinner on Friday, before, the Discovery Channel _._

 _You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals_

 _So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel_

 _Do it again now_

A/n. Let me hear if you like this ff thus far. I know it is different, experimental. I like to take events appart. All that happens started long ago. I like to find the why.


	4. Chapter 4 Frida Night Show&Tell

DISCLAIMER; HP belongs to JKR. The storyline and all new characters, as well as any new developments are my intellectual property.

 **Friday night.**

Harry was getting ready for the dinner without much help. Kreacher was more cantankerous that ever.

After the DH battle, Hermione had told him that his beloved Regulus was to receive many posthumous awards. Hermione had insisted that Kreacher accepted them for Regulus; and had been in charge of outfitting the house-elf to be honoured that day.

The day of the awards, Kreacher had donned a fancy smock, in deep blue velvet with the House of Black's crest embroidered on the chest, and the chain Sirus had given him around his skinny neck. He had his picture taken with the Ministry of Magic, the heads of the Wizengamot, and Harry and his Lady.

Because of that day, he respected Harry and Hermione, and nobody else. Since that day she had become Lady Granger, and Harry, Lord Potter.

Once a month, they had a mix of gourmet dining and card night. Usually attended by the Weasley brothers, Harry and Hermione. It was held on Friday night at Grimmauld, with rotation every month, but in reality the hosts would invariably be Hermione or Harry. This on the account of the no children, no wives, no girlfriends policy; and yes because of the telie and other gadgets at Harry's, and the cable subscription at Hermione's home.

There was however, one disagreeable house-elf at Harry's. Kreacher hated the Weasleys, and at the top of the long list was Ron. He would not answer to any requests if he came by to visit Harry. Anyone who hurt ' My Lady,' Hermione's new title, was public enemy #1 in Kreacher's book.

Just an indiscrete remark involving some affront to 'My Lady' from Harry, during a conversation overheard by Kreacher, constituted an entrance in Kreacher's black book. The house-elf really had one.

He made a big ceremony of popping the book and an old quill, with a flourish and a nasty grimace the unfortunate's name was penned in, end of the story. Only once he had erased a name in the list that grew by the day, it was Harry's name after four weeks of apologizing for "making" her cry. The list included more than the Weasley, and grew all the time.

This small elf would take his evening off, whenever he entertained any of the black listed. He would go to his cousin's house, at the Pucey's Manor. The cousin made Kreacher appear as the most congenial elf.

Of course, Harry had wanted to hire a elf to help the grumpy Kreacher, however, the mention of a new house-elf to help him, would start the tirade. It was not even worth to even mention it.

So now Harry had to do everything for this Friday night dinner, all cleaning, serving, but at least Kreacher cooked since his Lady Granger was coming

 _So let's continue our viewing as the drama unfolds. We'll fast forward to the events, during the night preceding the monkey-sex couple._

 _Back to the present, Grimauld place, hours before the dark room_

 **Friday evening**

Harry is relieved his guests have arrived. George is here to serve as a buffer and was told him to bring Angelina. Too bad that he forgot to cancel the monthly night, so Bill and Percy Floo almost right after.

Harry being Harry, decides that there is enough for everyone. However he is aware the brothers will do him harm if he follows his ill conceived plan.

George, the moment Hermione is there, looks at Harry and shakes his head before anyone else notices. He knows Ron, and is sure that Harry will try to say some stupid to defend the sorry excuse for a brother. Harry pretends he saw nothing.

Harry takes everyone to the drawing room, and after a few niceties, "George so nice to see you looking so well," an uptight Hermione says, then greets him with an insincere smile. She does the same with all the rest present. And she gives the host two air kisses, one on each cheek, without touching Harry.

"Harry, darling, I brought drinks for tonight. Glad I brought enough, guess you forgot to c…never mind." She decides not to mention Harry told her this was just going to be dinner, with George and Angelina. The more guests, the less she has to talk to him.

"The drinks are on the stiff side considering the reason you dragged me here tonight. Remember the magic word, the one you should not utter, or refer to it, in even an indirect reference. No, not even if Voldie's ghost threatens you with death itself. The word that starts with an R; I hope you all understood and will not forget."

All the others roll their eyes, and wonder if Harry can be so stupid. Can he? They all hope he isn't.

She gives Harry the fakest smile to ever adorn those delicious lips, begging to be kissed, thoroughly. Harry thinks, and stops before his train of thought derails into forbidden lands; or before his troussers become too tight.

Her hair is starting to crackle with anger, so she takes a deep breath. Everyone else is looking for a safe place to hide.

"Drinks anyone?" Her voice is much friendlier. A common sigh of relief is heard among the attendees.

"A tender morsel of information, so you'll know, Ginny and the other witch's casual encounter was planned. They wanted me to know. Seamus sent me the owls they exchanged the day before. No, I don't want to hear a peep. So you know who Ginny is."

The news wasn't a surprise but to Harry, the others had already come to that conclusion; and will make sure to pass vital information to Ginny's husband. She would never step out her house alone; a look of disgust passes between all the brothers; she has done enough. The common, bitter thought crosses their minds, why _Fred, why?_

The tension brings unbidden memories to Harry. They come like wild horses as they sit to drink in a tensed mood; he knows she has the right to be angry. Even more now, knowing the two witches had planned it all along. And he remembers the last 30 days that followed the ring incident, just to remind him not to be stupid, to control his tongue.

They drink and after a drink or two, they silently move to the dining room. Tonight, alcohol is the facilitator of choice.

As, the dinner progresses, Hermione decides to break the thick ice freezing the diners, and takes a stab at conversation.

"Harry, dear heart," her tone isn't friendly, the 'dear heart' is an old personal joke; about cold people who use terms of endearment, right before they cut your throat. The other four diners squirm on their chairs, uncomfortably; they wait to hear the other shoe drop.

"Hmm, don't dare mention the 'R' word, I feel it worming its way up your throat, and it is about to fall out of the tip of your tongue. You are about to cause a larger breach into our already strained relationship." Harry looks amazed, how did she know? He was just getting ready to do just that. He avoids looking at her and busies himself with the appetizer.

"That vile creature, that ginger-sewer rat, has ceased to exist. He is a stain on my soul, one that I have managed to erase or at least bleach to some extent. Taking money, the latest accounting, hmm, ah, mmm, over 30,000 galleons from our common vault, my gold…to buy h… who can do such—," her voice is trembling, and she isn't able to speak any more, her voice is charged with emotion. Everyone's eyes bounce from Harry to Hermione.

A menacing growl comes from Bill's corner; Percy has bent his fork, and they both look at George as if he were at fault.

Maybe he is, seeing Hermione like this, makes George wish that he had joined Bill and Charlie when they wanted to do something to Ron. Even Percy was on.

George talked them out of it at the last minute, but it would have taken just one more encouragement before they all had gone for the git.

And, as Arthur had remarked, she was forever lost to the Weasley's gene pool thanks to Ronald Bilus Weasley. Which makes it worse for each one of them.

Harry has stopped eating the scallops with crystallized ginger, that Kreacher prepared just for Hermione, and wants to grab the bull by the horns. It is a good thing that something is holding his tongue from keeping his promise to Ron.

Ron's voice is inside his head, Harry _, I found out she will be at your home tonight, that the Friday night is on. If you would please tell, tell, tell, tell her, tell her_. Yes, the sewer rat tried his luck earlier today. Hermione is still talking; he needs to look around the table, and he fears for his life.

"Using the money, mostly money from my dead parents, to buy, and to pay a down pa—, the, a, a, r, the—AGH, I cannot even say it, I cannot even tell you what he, for that, you know?" She continue and looks at Harry, a dare for him to speak.

George chugs the entire mojito cocktail, the Muggle drink Hermione fixed for them, all in one sip. His brothers follow the lead. Then, he grabs the pitcher and pours his third, or is it his fourth, in less than ten minutes, no wine for him, he needs something strong.

He looks at Percy's accusatory eyes. Yes, Charlie was right, "Kill the damn git, and then, later, ask for mercy at the Wizegamot."

George mind wonders, he is deep in thought.

 _That prat deserves to be executed in a slow painful mode. Through the 12 years, all Weasley wizards, from the oldest to George, and yes, include Fred, have respected Ron's claim for Hermione; some in a mean and hurtful manner ._

 _What silliness, each of them has been a willing ring side observer, of Ron's selfishness. He is not a bad bloke, just a bit selfish. He, George, might be the worse traitor._

 _Molly has lost too much weight; and she is sadder than she has been, since Fred passed away. It is not due to her pregnancy, that is not the reason behind her tears._

 _She loves Hermione as her own, and is ashamed of her own flesh and blood. Arthur does not even want his name mentioned. Only Hermione is invited for Sunda_ y lunches, and she never comes.

She wants Hermione to be the godmother, to her new offspring, and this is unlikely to happen. A fact which makes her even sadder, and she cries several times a day.

 _George sent Bill a message, and Bill was beyond mad. Right away, he took a Portkey to loan the witch his support. After his divorce he had been thinking of asking the witch for a chance; and gave it up after a big fight with Ron. Arthur and Charlie had to separate them before Bill let his inner wolf really hurt Ron._

 _He had left for a ten-year contract to the Far East, and all because of Ron, to let little Ron have his own way. When he came over, a week ago, Hermione told him,"The Weasley wizards will never to have my heart, never again." Which further upset Molly and Arthur, when they heard._

 _They wanted a good break for Bill. Bill came clean, and confessed his past infractions. He told them about Hermione, and how Ron had helped Fleur._

 _He had already asked for a divorce, and had moved in with Ron. Who must have fed him a potion at dinner, and he got so drunk, or under a potion, that he couldn't remember what happened that night. Other that Fleur was in his bed come next morning. And four weeks later, she announced her pregnancy. Yes, Ron, must have done it._

 _Bill had said, "I think that one day Ron's body might be found, mauled by a wolf. And Charlie agreed , "Could be, or eaten by a runaway Dragon_."

"We will talk, how about playing cards, after we eat. Angelina can join us," Harry is saying.

George comes up from his revelry, when he hears as Harry conceeds. "… for now, please let's enjoy this delicious dinner. Hermione, would you care for another glass of wine? It is your favourite, Kreacher found it just for you." Harry continues, and small chat graces the table.

 **Show it-once-and-for-all**

Forty minutes later, Hermione is no longer playing cards, she has left her cards upside down to pace the drawing room. She is a caged lioness stalking her prey. Meanwhile Harry sinks as far back on the chair as he can; he is the Christian waiting to be fed, at the Roman arena, to the hungry beast in front of him.

 _He was an idiot and opened his mouth, oh why o why is he such a fool_. He just told her that it was probably the fault of the birthday kiss. The one Lavender gave Ron when she brought him a cake to WWW.

George and Bill look at him with incredulity, Percy's head shakes from side to side. Yes, they all heard the same,"Hermione, I just want to say, not his name no. But think, all the other affairs were the result of the innocent kisses that poor, misguided R allowed his fans to give him. He is weak, but getting stronger, ehem. And with Lav, hmm, well it was the birthday kiss…"

None can believe their ears, what idiocy is Harry saying? Ron just behaved despicably and lost her, why make excuses, he should be glad he is alive.

The Weasley wizards know that they had a fair chance to win her heart, but each of them wasted it. She fell in love easy, or maybe just wanted to forget the war horrors. Each one of them knows of her nightmares, when dreams of the torture became real.

They all know she is not fickle, just has a big heart. And maybe they recognize that each one of them, took advantage of her love and wasted it. They are all feeling guilty, and, well, sad, that they have hurt her, each one of them.

Meanwhile Hermione is angry. During this month she has talked to counselors and has done a lot of soul searching. Begging to be loved and also wanting to be part of the Weasley family, after her parents' murder and Harry's rejection at the tent, she lost her way. No, no more, no.

She looks around to each of them, all guilty as charged, they all cringe. Angeline left a while ago, she made an excuse feeing the tension, a smart move judging by Hermione's growing anger at Harry.

She stops pacing and points a finger, then waggles it on Harry's direction, "How can you dare to call him weak and misguided? How can you even say that it is hard for a wizard to resist a kiss, any kiss, was that your argument? And from a kiss to shagging, and from shag to months of shagging and clandestine meetings, this is too much, too far fetched, too low, even for you, Harry James Potter."

She is gaining momentum coming closer to him, and Harry instinctively sits farther back, almost one with his chair. If she comes any closer, he will Apparate out the room. He does not want to be killed by the Witchy-Flavored-bonbon coming towards him.

All those watching this drama, seen and unseen want to wring Harry's neck, over his ill advised defense of underserving Ron. How can this end well for Harry, is everyone's guess

"So, if I were to kiss you at this very instant, do you mean to say that immediately you would be shagging me, right here in the middle of the room? I think not, you respect me too much, and you feel nothing for me other than filial affection. Poppycock, you would have to have wanted me long before that. R-Rat already wanted to do it with all those witches before the alleged 'innocent kisses!'"

Retorts Hermione, to Harry's misguided logic, her voice is ever louder. "He must have wanted to shag each witch. And because of, one shag or shags, the Misguided R-one, puts thousands of Galleons on a down payment for 'their' cottage and buys her a 5,000 Galleons ring; and all because a kiss, okay a passionate snog. Harry, just give me a bloody break."

Hair flies, escaping her long braid, it seems like a halo around her head, it moves in ripples around her; in the softly lit room, the magic discharges make a light show.

By now Harry's thoughts are taking a turn, _She is biting her lip, showing that pink tongue, the hair makes her so beautiful_ , Harry observes and feels ready to jump her.

He attempts to defend his arguments,,"That is not what I said; I meant if he were around someone, whom he had feelings for in the past; he probably forgot, it is about the present, just a small lapse, like he did not know, dunno."

They all want him to cut it, to stop it. What is Harry doing? He continues, unbelievable.

"Quit looking at me with that expression. You are making me nervous, and, I am not making sense, and damn, settle your hair, and quit biting your lip. I am sure, what? Hmm, now the ring, he was err he did- hmm, he made an error of judgement, under stress."

Harry already knows his argument to be a failure and can hear his babbling. Harry has not made a coherent statement for a while now. Before she came over, he had all planned, now he is questioning his own sanity; George is right, "Mate, don't do it, why did you talk to that sorry excuse for a brother. It is a bad idea, let Ron burn. "

Harry is losing his train of thought, and is thinking, _damn she looks shagalicious, and why am I defending my nemesis? Harry James Potter are you an idiot or what_?

Even Kreacher took a safe route and plainly told him, "I is not helping if you is helping that gits, I heards," and took his evening off.

George implores him to close his mouth, so does Percy. They both keep telling him to shut it, with hand signs. Bill and Percy stare in amazement, Harry is a smart wizard, so why doesn't he stop? Both have their wands handy, ready to prevent justifiable homicide.

What a bad argument, Harry knows it to be awful. His wishes are to tell her how he feels. That if he had kissed Hermione just once, a real snog, he would have shagged her right on the spot. Just with a touch of her open lips.

Just thinking about it, about a passionate snog, is making him hard, ok harder, if she just touches me, I will come on the spot. She now looks like an angry goddess with magic swirling around her. It is making her breasts taut, her nipples hard, and damn it, _'Cut it out Harry Potter_ ,' he admonishes himself.

This is his normal state when he is around Hermione, ever since he gave up trying to fight his feelings. He is so used to it, that it no longer makes, even, a tiny dent. Permanent-arousal is his middle name; a state so perpetual that he recently called himself, Harry Hard-cock Potter.

All his experiences with other witches, after he gave in to his love for her, were a disaster; a cold shower and Miss Hand, are his now optimal solution for this permanent state. Yet, he is not a monk, he has kept trying just in case, once in a while he goes and hunts for witches.

Yup, he knows the drill by now, a total waste of time, he brings them home, and his flag pole just fizzles out. It has made for some embarrassing moments. He has been now labelled as 'closet gay', 'gay on denial,' and there are rumours he carries a torch for Draco Malfoy.

Of course, his snog argument would imply that Ron loved Lavender, which is the case. However, Ron always wanted, whatever or whoever belonged to someone else. Let's see; Harry loved Hermione; his brothers all had been attracted to her; Viktor had patiently waited until he saw the light and gave up; Mc Laggen has not married hoping for a shot, and who knows who else.

It is that very fact, that some many might, or do want her, the very reason, which makes Hermione Ron's number-one target, the one he wants.

Ron suffers from the youngest child syndrome. Yup, he perceives himself as a victim, while his parents had bled for each one of their children, to include Ron.

Aggghhh, this witch is making him too confused, she is looking too Hermionish, and he really doesn't want her back with Ron. So why on earth is he arguing and pleading for his worse rival? He needs some help from above or a swift kick on the arse, or maybe both.

Hermione is having a rage attack, commonplace since the DH battle. Everyone was damaged in someway. Hers is manifested in rage attacks.

"I will show how wrong you are once and for all. I'm tired of arguing; let me do a life demonstration."

With her teeth clenched, her voice sounds determined, "Just let me show you once and for all, enough is enough, my dear Harry James Potter. Time for talking was here before, and it's now gone bye-bye." She is coming towards him without hesitation. He is now hoping for a good show. He is more than willing, let her come near him, he has a plan of his own.

The house muggle lights are being affected by the fury of one angry and powerful witch.

 **Hands on demo to show Harry or A life demo to prove him wrong-**

Impulsively, no thinking, as she concludes her last sentence, she is by him, the show has begun.

In one fluid motion, she straddles Harry right where he sits.

She wears a flowing chiffon skirt that gracefully accommodates her fast movements. In a fell swoop she takes off his glasses, and to the horrified eyes of Bill and Percy, and George's smirk, she grabs his chin forcefully.

She has a wild look about her, it reminds Harry of his witch when she is under attack. She is taking no prisoners; it is an-all-out, hand to hand combat. Oh, yes, he wants to be attacked by her.

A pleasantly surprised Harry, who by the way is super randy, he is ready to jump her and hell with George, Bill and Percy. With that on mind, he welcomes the aggressor.

He thinks that his eyes are flashing red, and hopefully appears fearful and surprised as he looks at his beloved beauty. Who is now descending like a raptor upo _n her_ prey, Harry's lips _._

 _Yes, act surprised Harry Potter; you are an actor, didn't you fool Voldemort? Two can play this game, so come here sweet kitty, come to your lion._ '

a/n...Well seems Harry has waken up. And how about if we let the Knotts take care of Ginny their way.


	5. Life DEMO

DISCLAIMER; HP belongs to JKR. The story line and all new characters, new develoment are my intellectual property

Well dear fellow ff here goes, A long and last chapter. Nothing more on this end.

Mature content. I edited it heavily, hopefully enough.

 **Hands on demo to show Harry or A life demo to prove him wrong** -

Impulsively, no thinking, as she concludes her last sentence, she is by him, the show has begun.

In one fluid motion, she straddles Harry right where he sits.

She wears a flowing chiffon skirt that gracefully accommodates her fast movements. In a fell swoop she takes off his glasses, and to the horrified eyes of Bill and Percy, and George's smirk, she grabs his chin forcefully.

She has a wild look about her, it reminds Harry of his witch when she is under attack. She is taking no prisoners; it is an-all-out, hand to hand combat. Oh, yes, he wants to be attacked by her.

A pleasantly surprised Harry, who by the way is super randy, he is ready to jump her and hell with George, Bill and Percy. With that on mind, he welcomes the aggressor.

The hunted becomes the hunter. As soon as he knows she cannot escape, Harry's arms lock the naughty witch into his arms. It is an 'I got'ya' type of embrace. He runs his hands up her slender back and down to her bum. A bum which he can perfectly feel under her chiffon skirt; then, he moves his hips to connect with her warm core, and he wants to scream when making contact. Is this pleasure or what, oh god, he is going to die.

He smashes his lips on hers; nothing gentle about this demo. His hand comes around her head to make sure she cannot escape his kiss. She has become his prisoner, for a moment she tries to escape, but the moment doesn't last. She did not expect this, but she likes it. She likes rather well.

Moans and soft keening sounds accompany the frenzy of the entangled couple. This cannot be qualified as a snog or a kiss; they are having sex with their mouths, they are swallowing each other with each touch, their bodies are melded into each other's. They are a never ending succession of limbs and flesh. A Hindu deity comes to mind, arms here, legs there, a hand that moves, a hand that grabs.

It is the most sensual first kiss that anyone present has seen, and will gratify George's eyes for the rest of his living days.

In seconds, the room turns dark, a haze of dusty passion obscures the air, and just after a few minutes, the brothers stand up swiftly stand up to leave the room. The three of them are feeling strange, and the magic unleashed is pushing them out, like a real hand behind their back.

Harry and Hermione's magic is powerful and combined, it is a force of nature. As the Weasleys are leaving the room, sex magic runs on visible waves across the room, swirls of coloured red, orange, and pink sparkles twist and whirl in the air, to dissipate into the already charged atmosphere.

The magic is exclusive and kicks them out, besides the kissing couple are still to come up for a breath after all this time, and Harry's wandering hands, are already under the skirt, plus their whines, wriggling and grinding are making the guests awfully uncomfortable.

One by one leave the room, as they walk away, they can still hear, "I want you-inside- of me. Inside of you,…now-let me,.. So tight, so wet, so hard.." So they all go as far as possible , one flight down, wanting to escape from the maelstrom of sexual feelings. The sound is too loud and the voices are making them hard as granite

Back at the room, the couple stands up without unlocking their lips; their mouths are engaged in a love making session. It feels right to both of them, their real first kiss. A hungry one, the kiss to make up for 12 years of longing, Harry has wanted to kiss her since the first day. Maybe not like this, but as in his big snogs, and later the marital bed.

She was the witch he always dreamed of loving and later marrying her, there is no way to deny it to her any longer. It is time for the truth and to establish his claim.

He has shagged many witches, a stud during his Hogwarts years, even if his dreams were always about her. The troubles came during the Horcrux hunt, and they never left. But never was a kiss like this. And soon, it is not enough; he wants to be inside of what he imagines as heaven. He feels her hot, moist cave through his thin, linen-silk trousers and her lacy knickers.

His prick is a divining rod, twitching to find the water Harry is thirsting for. His fingers have already felt all the heat and the wetness just outside.

All his thoughts are concentrated in one goal, to be part of her. He desires to have her sweet walls closing around him, caressing his cock, squeezing him into pleasure, and into an ecstasy not felt before. He drives against it, rubs his prick right in the middle of her wet folds covered by lace. And he cannot wait one more second.

They undress using her wand. "Divestier," she casts the spell in a husky voice laden with desire.

The room is dark, the air is full of magic and scents of arousal and sex; the sounds are unintelligible, mostly screams and moans can be heard.

Inside, they continue their dance of love; a disturbing thought threatens to end up the imminent union. Harry hears an internal voice far away, trying to escape from the recesses of his mind, it is the voice from the past, of the young ginger hair wizard now a man, "Harry, please tell Hermione, you must-"and Harry screams aloud.

"No R, I will not. Now, I had it, you shut up, be gone. Hermione, I love you, I am yours for your taking." Ron's pleads are forever gone, drowned in the sea of love and sensations; this is Harry's time.

She speaks between moans, "I waited for you for the last twelve years, glad you finally realize the R word is forbidden, and that only the Harry word is allowed from here on. And now hush, and put those lips back where they belong."

He then grabs her and falls with her on the converted sofa, and first things first, he will touch and explore in a little while, but right now his rod wants to dip in the moist well, dripping with all he thirsts for.

He nudges her thighs wide open, on cue she opens them, wraps her thighs around his hips, and digs her heels in his bum, then exerts pressure on his delicious cheeks, and brings him even closer to her. The dripping head is between the folds of her sex, and she wants it in.

He feels the tip of his penis at the hot, moist entrance and feels as if it already inside.

"Hermione, I cannot stop, I am going inside you, tell me right now if you don't want this."

She doesn't answer and just arches her hips even more, trying to expedite the action.

One swift move, and he is in, "OHHH," they both utter it at the same time.

They stop for a second to rejoice in this moment. She feels very tight, her heat and moistness envelop his cock in a tight embrace, her soft, hot, moist walls feel like heaven; gently massaging him around, the sensations, the small spasms, and then the larger ones about to come during her first orgasm.

She is breaking him in half. "HERMIONE, love, oh, oh, stop it, I am not going to last." He bites his lips, his body is trembling. She feels him inside of her; gods he is big; she has never been stretched like this, not once during her little experience with other wizards. All afraid she would get pregnant and Molly would kill them, there was very little action.

It is pleasure and pain all at once. She feels his coarse groin hair against her nearly bare mound, and she wants him to stay there forever, something is surging through her, and she feels she is coming, "oh gods, Harry, Harry, oh Harry, hold me, don't let me go."

His mouth lashes on hers, and they just breathe and moan into each others mouths as she comes. He is so aroused that he cannot concentrate for even a kiss. He holds on tight, his body hard with anticipation and trying to wait. Their wild dance has just begun and will continue for a long while.

For now, they are in a frenzy of loving, just feeling, and just submerged on each other. His prick is diving inside her underwater warm and moist cave, coming in and out, as her walls contract, massaging and breaking him in half. She is stretched to the limit, the friction and motions making her go out of her mind. She wants him deeper, faster, and harder, pleasure and pain. Hands and mouths are everywhere, touching, biting, licking, neither can have enough.

She wants more, he feels the same. "Stop she says, stop, out, I want you in my mouth."

''No," his voice is strangled, the sensation is killing him, he thrusts very hard.

She cries, "I like this."

"Tell me witch," his finger is inside her mouth, "Lick my finger, tell me do you like my cock inside of you. I have always wanted you, bite my finger, yes, put your hand around my cock, harder, I want to know."

"Oh yes, oh, your finger oh, my god," her finger is sliding inside of him. "Hermione, more or gods oh gods."

They play high-card-wins, the loser is George, "Boyo, you came in last. It is your turn as the big loser. Go and close the lovers' den door, cast a silencing charm, and please don't try to join them." Bill jokingly orders him. Percy just laughs.

George turns around before leaving the sitting room, he notices Bill appearing a bit frazzled. His eyes shine wolfish amber. His mouth is open revealing fangs. And now George can swear that he hears a wolf's growl. No way, this is some weird night.

Once he goes up the steps, reaches the scene of the crime, the object of our former CSI. The display freezes him in place, with one hand at the knob and the other now holds his wand.

He has gone to close the door. Albeit both candles and fire are out, the room's inside is pleasantly lighted. He can clearly see the naked silhouettes writhing, erotically moving atop of the bed. His feet are glued to the floor; he is unable to walk away, frozen in place.

The couple engaged in indoor sports has gone far beyond friendly, obviously dear Watson! His brother, with his enhanced senses, must have sensed the upstairs gymnastics have gone well past the first routine. They all knew the love athletes fancied each other, and more than one of this night's guests is rather unhappy.

Inside the room, the naked wizard lays in an impossible crunch. His legs slightly bent at the knee, defined flexing calf muscles, the heels push unto the bed increasing his leverage.

The lithe, petite, unclothed witch hunkers above him. Supporting her body with her straining toned arms, hands hold on to his shoulders, wildly rides him hard. Her back is exquisite, a thing of beauty; her bum two perfect halves of a peach, delectable. A body that could have been his.

His shoulders lift away from the bed, apparently for his mouth to reach the offerings before him. Yes, probably feasting on her breasts, as his face pulls back and forth. His large hand moves along her perfect, delicious bum kneading and searching. The other hand is somewhere between him and the witch, its occupation – your guess as good as mine.

"Oh, YES- MORE, FASTER', a man's husky voice "Yes, oh yes, my witch, -come - for me- Oh."

Her long hair, now fixed in a thick braid, looks like a thick shiny rope, sparkling as it moves and jumps along her back. The man's hidden hand sneaks around and grabs it, pulls it back, yanking her head back a bit. "Brute, " is her loud complaint.

"Lift your face up, eyes open, and keep looking at me. I want to see your desire!" Her lover demands. "Too many years wanting you."

However, after a second, is it too intense? Definitely, passion is ruling, judging by both of their desperate, erratic movements. Is she bending to kiss him?

George is enjoying the loud erotic cacophony of ragged breaths, moans, grunts, flesh slapping against each other, bed creaking, whines, and whispers. The strangled, mumbled words are not always discernible, "I love you, ah-", and "Tell me you love, again," and so on. And,"Oh Fuck -Oh Merlin. Please don't stop!"

Wow, that is some kind of background music; her smoky sounds are a siren's call. He thinks and 'it' twitches as in agreement.

The air carries a waft of the room's smells to his vantage point. He detects a combined scent of sex, musk, perfume, sweat, grass, rain, and spring flowers. It reaches him, hardening his body, all over.

Damn, he feels a frisson, and then more, of desire. Lust waves travel from his spine straight to his groin, grabbing him, and leaving him trembling. He feels a forbidden lust for what is not his. This is wrong in so many levels, but he doesn't feel guilty.

He wants to grab his hardness and seek self-release; to ask, to implore if he would be allowed to join the couple. He longs to do something other than stand in place, but he is totally frozen, or at least parts of him are.

"Shite mate, you need to leave, move your bum; since when are you a pervert? Gred if you can hear me, please help me- oh, fuck, I am in so much trouble."

He actually feels tears, it is jealousy, making him wish he would be the one inside of her. He once had access to her body, her love, and could not get his act together, and married Angelina. Even worse, he pretended not to see Hermione's tears during his wedding. He has been an idiot, and the worse part was that he had loved Hermione, and ran away from her because his guilt over Fred, and because Ron beat him up; and he didn't want to lose another brother.

The couple oblivious to their surroundings, unaware of others, immersed in their passion, misses the sparkling vortex of colours forming right above them. The configuration seems sentient, alive, shape changing as it transforms, emitting strange melodic sounds.

"It is alive," George mutters softly, not wanting to call the form's attention. He doesn't notice the darkened fumes flowing away from him. The fumes are his regrets, the old poison seeping out his pores.

The shower of crystals sprays on the lovers, seemly melting upon touching their bared bodies. Sizzling sounds join the erotic cacophony. Causing the lovers' skins to radiate crystalline light streams, lighting the room as it was late day light.

"What is happening?" George marvels, his own skin tingling.

He sniffs the air. The scent has evolved; it has changed. The air now carries a complex, spicy fragrance, right down pleasant. It reminds him of something. It is a balanced mix of the previous scents and something new, undefined, almost tangible, and frankly delicious.

A light breeze, from somewhere, carries the fragrance into his mouth, his nose, his lungs, flowing and saturating wherever it reaches. It tastes of mouth watering flavours, of hope, fulfilment, delight, although he isn't sure of how you can taste those.

The feelings incited are akin to fulfilled dreams, healing, orgasms, passion, forgiveness, release, chocolate, ice-cream, water, sweet kisses, or whatever your senses and soul desires. It makes him feel as if he is in a dream- Weird.

He inhales more deeply, once again stays on his tongue, circulates through him, and in its wake it flushes the remaining sorrow darkening his soul. Strange that the feeling of pain for his twin rushing out, did the breeze take it away?

George stands on place for another very long minute. He isn't a voyeur, not really. His brothers made him come to close the door.

Now that his head seems to be clearing, he wonders, 'Is this even possible, am I imagining it, a breeze inside, chocolate, what the hell, diamonds, bodies gleaming?' Innate questioning, a futile attempt to distract his heightened senses, to calm his erection, "Ah, elementary my dear Forge, but of course- brain giant- it was magic, remember it is Hermione, duh!"

Somehow, the self recrimination seems to be enough to activate him. His feet are unfrozen. His body can move, allowing him to go about his task. "The power of magic, go figure" he chuckles.

The ginger head wizard shakes his head once, twice and thrice. It is an attempt to dispel the lasting effects of the sex and love magic, that still envelope him. He wants to clear his muddled brain. He sniffs his shirt afraid he reeks of sex; he is wrong, and all is well.

He waves his wand, softly chanting a powerful silencing charm. Then gently closes the door, places protecting wards, and he walks away, "Lucky prat, my left nut to be in your place," but thinks of it better," If I were not married, that is."

He stops after two steps, as if reconsidering, "Maybe next time, once again will be my turn, and I promise, in your name dear Gred, that I will not waste it away, yup". And he raised his right fist in a victory sign as he skips the steps, dancing to an unheard triumphing tune.

 **The watchers or trying to be polite**.

 _Fred, Sirus, and Remus sitting in room not too far away, view the scene through a gap in space, the door and walls faded to nothing. They have front row seat for this show. Sirus and Fred, both agree, that this show was better than the muggle movies, that Harry would play on Hermione's player. Plus they got to see the witch that all had dreamed about more than once, or at least two of them have never stopped dreaming about her._

T _hey were normally not voyeurs, but hey, it had not been intentional. George had watched, and maybe they were all frozen to the seats._

 _They were all called to the room, and who could tell this would happen? They cannot lose points over this._

 _Remus keeps whining and placing a hand across his eyes, but keeps peeking through the open fingers._

 _"Sirius, this is so wrong, we should wait until they are out the room, and we have no rights, there might not be rules in here, but I am sure we will never be able to get out of here, as others have. "_

 _"And that is bad, why?" Asked Sirus raising an eyebrow, while chuckling, and Fred laughs in the background._

 _"I will wait for Forge right here, who knows what is next, besides what is not to like about here?" Fred supports Sirus._

 _Remus shrugs his shoulders, "ok, you win, but I am not watching, no more."_

 _"When George leaves, we will turn around." Sirus compromises. It sounds fair to all, 'compromised' Sirus laughs, and Fred nods, eagerly and emphatically, in agreement, while still eating popcorn._

 _Finally they tell Remus to be quiet or to go, he harrumphs "It is not my fault I am here, it is all yours." And he stays, and ...he watches between his fingers, "I am not watching, it is Moony who wants to. "_

 _They all have been laughing at George's monologue, and fully agree with him. Besides, they are very turned on. Fred sighs and says, "Maybe next time will be our turn, but for now, it is as it should be, so mote it be."_

In the darkened room the man hoarse voice is pleading, Louder grunts, moans, pleads, raw sounds of passion, body against body, wood creaking, the air redolent of perfume, sweat and yes, most definitely sex. The cacophony is drowned by the music sounds of Paris Clubbing music, sensual and fast, fitting to the wild dances in this private party .

The dance continues until, he feels the starting of her oncoming orgasm. His conscience is leaving him. Fire, real fire, sparks coming from both, from their sexes, their bodies aglow, are now creating fire works inside the large room. He feels expanding, how is that possible, she is screaming, " I love you."

The wizards at the drawing room, all feel the sensual wave, all at once, and fate grants them all a peak into the feelings generated above them. Their eyes open with amazement at the shower of sparks, and what are those droplets? When they land above them, all feel as if their wounded souls are healing. What was that? They ask theirselves.

George comes down to the sitting room, and sits with Bill and Percy in amicable silence, where they all down the tall glass of the muggle 'Mojitos', and the mango-ginger salsa to dip their crisps. Why waste the perfectly decent treats prepared for them, "Do tell, we are listening," Bill and Percy, " here mate, we are all ears, are they, or are they not?"

"Are they ever." George laughs, raising his eyebrows in a lewd gist. The three brothers brake in racous laughter while they drink and talk. Old pains and sorrows are now gone, if not for their feelings for the one they lost. They are all feeling strangely well. Same goes for Charlie that is dreaming he is here. Tomorrow, he will feel like a new wizard.

Perhaps the renegade couple will grace them with their presence once their demons are exhorted, but Bill has his doubts. They all came for the muggle poker night; they already ate and they played, and maybe it is time to go.

The one who had sacrificed for everyone, who kept his feelings to himself, won the game, and the chance of his life. He has not wasted it. They lost the game; they are out, and sitting on the benches. The game is being played just above them, and they all secretly wish that it was one of them locked upstairs with "their" witch.

But they all had their chances, and wasted them. Just as the now engaged in action wizard almost had. Their mate, their brother in arms, is having a night only dreamed by others.

Damn! Each of them thinks, and all know nobody could ever compare to her, and wish for the times when a powerful witch could have a court of wizard lovers, knowing that she would never allow them to break their marriages, even if this were the case.

Moreover, the three silently acknowledge their lack of immunity to the sex magic, moving through the house, not if coming from her. They are unable to halt their responses.

Finally, all aware of the rising lust at their groins, shifting uncomfortably against the cushions. So one by one make their excuses, and leave to seek release with their wives, and for Bill with, who knows.

Percy is the first, his pale face is flushed, his eyes gleaming with fervour, "Brothers, I think we need to go to our houses, before we do something stupid," raising his arm goodbye.

Sensible wizard that he is, nevertheless, surprises his siblings with the rare honesty display. But hey, they all know, why not voice the truth, right?

Bill the last to leave, looks to the top floors, and before leaving angrily whipes the tears chocking him, curses Fleur, Ron, and his own weakness, "He deserves you, my love, my Hermione, my mate, my only one," directs the words to no one in particular, and anger finally leaves him. He touches his face now scar free, throws the floo powder into the fire place and disappears.

In another place Sirus shakes his head, "Funny, how is it that Brown eyes has not yet figured out, she can give so much, that will be more than enough for each one of us." Sirus remarks as he turns into a large black dog and leaves with a bark.

'Ah, I am sure you will properly enlighten her the moment she arrives", they all smile and nod, "but we will need to wait for a while." Remus eyes squints to look at the strange time device on the wall, "hmm, and then maybe not, maybe only some of us."

The door to the room shifted twice to let the occupants out, and only then the tall dark haired wizard, comes out the shadows. He waves his hand, and shifts the door to another location making sure he would be alone.

He stands up next to the hole in space, runs his hand through his messy hair, stretches his neck hoping to catch her face, it is not often the space opens, only a very special occasion calls anyone to the tears in time and space, but he does not want to share the time with his friends.

The viewing closes all of a sudden; he feels time fading and space changing, he is falling.

Back at the lovers' nest all is quiet; the silencing charm is still working.

Inside the room, a tall porcelain flamenco dancer faces the lovers. She stood in a wall niche. It had belonged to her German grandmother, and was sent to her with other parts of an inheritance, she gave it to Harry. It is glowing, the eyes are looking at them.

As the lovers quiet down, "I love you forever" she whispers on his ear.

"I do even more, and you will never leave, you are mine". He says as he holds her tight next to his heart.

It is at that precise moment the dancer's closed eyes opened, just woken up by the healing magic, glowing bright red, "Forever is a long time, enjoy tonight, dance tomorrow and thanks for the long nap, I am half way back, and it is just a matter of time", if only a figurine could talk, can it?

 **Afterwards**

Neither of the two can believe they are here, together after 12 years of knowing each other. Until earlier that night, they had never shared a passionate kiss.

Years later, they confessed they both heard the peals of laughter, followed by, "Finally, James, your son almost failed his practical examination. Thank Merlin for the one: 'Miss Let –me-show-you-once-and-for-all, the one and only, Miss Hermione Granger, soon to become Hermione Potter-Granger."

Yes, Harry is glad and will always be grateful that Hermione had finally decided to show him the error of his ways, with a live demonstration at that; and really, who cares if she was trying to prove him wrong. He will take this kind of wrong any day, and for the rest of his life. He was wrong, very.

As of today, Harry and Hermione are still kissing and loving, making up for lost time; they have taken an extended sabbatical. After all, making up for twelve years is a lot of work. Harry does not need to work another day of his life; and the kind of work he is now performing requires his daily presence at home, or around wherever his curly hair witch might be at the time.

Harry thoughts are along this line, 'Who knows when or if ever the Potters will be back to work. Hey, after saving the world, they might take a lifetime vacation, and then just work hard to populate the wizarding world with little Potter-Grangers. It will take a lot of work.. It sounds like a plan.' He quits thinking, and goes back to bed where one loving witch is waiting for, the only name allowed, Harry.

Their breaks, to interact with the world inhabited by other beings, are yet not very common. It is difficult for them to allow anyone in their tiny circle of love. For once, they are being very selfish and they love it.

They hire Luna as a wedding planner, along with Molly. And they attend for the minimum time necessary. Both look like out a fairy tale, only with eyes for each other, it makes all the single people wish for a love just like it. After cutting the cake, dancing the obligatory dance, a few photos, and where are the bride and the groom? They leave the 1,500 guests to have the free food, drink and entertainment.

As for George and his wife, 8 and ½ half months later, welcomed a small tiny witch into their lives. Few months earlier than Angelina, Molly had another little girl and a twin boy. She named them Fred II in memory of Fred, and Fabiola, for her brother Fabian.

And yes, the Potter-Granger ventured out of their love nest to be their godparents, and the ones that saw them, assured the media and all those who inquired, that all was well between them, and they looked just wonderful. They did not add the bit, of a little bump that was hard to detect, but there nevertheless.

If you care to hear something strange, the day of Fred II's birth, George's last remain of emptiness went away.

These days, he hears Fred II's thoughts, but he has not told anyone. The baby's eyes light up whenever George comes near him. And happiness fills the older brother's heart, and the knowledge makes him whole. He has not shared this with anyone, but he knows Fred is back.

Ron? Did you ask? Well that is another story. He seems changed, less selfish, more aware of the needs of others. For now, he has turned into the number one baby sitter, and he is often seen carrying Fred II. Fred II is almost daily at the shop along with George's baby girl. He hopes one day he can be friends with Hermione, but he is not pushing it.

Molly is a mother, and has a sneaky suspicion; she has noticed the silent communication between Fred II and George. Fabiola is a fraternal twin, and loves to be held by her mother, Molly has another little witch to love.

As for Ginny, she is pregnant, and a bit sad about Harry, she has not given up on him.

Her husband loves her, but keeps her on a short leash. She has the money she always wanted, but her freedom has forever been curtailed, after the Lavender incident. She is a queen, a Pureblood with a large manor, and all she wanted before.

He is not taking chances with his beautiful wife; his son told him a little gossip he heard from very reliable sources, that further opened his eyes. Ginny thought it was a passing face, and her thinking was faulted much to Molly's delight. No more clubbing with young Wizards, it is now at home on the bed, the one she made on her own; meanwhile Nott Sr. and Jr. patiently wait for the twins she is expecting.

Theo Jr. is a smart wizard, he has a lover, a Muggle born wizard, and Ginny has freed him from having to marry and produce heirs. Plus he loves babies, and she is also giving him that.

Nott Sr. wants a tutor to start working with- the babies since the start. Theo has recommended a bright Wizard who graduated from Ravenclaw a couple year before.

Theo has told his father, that he hopes Ginny gives him a large family, "Yes son, you are right, Molly says it is okay every other year or so. Arthur calls it an insurance." They both look at each other and smile. Life is good at the Notts.

As for the others their lived go on, all healed and feeling better, even Charlie .

Please let me know if you enjoy this fiction. As for the Ron lovers out there, no more Private messages. This is for fun. I need a fall guy, and he is available. I had lots of fun writting this. Review comments are well received.


End file.
